Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1887-04-09
LOVE In A FOG.

Annunziata, Francesca Belloni's nurse,
was standing at the top of large flight of
stairs. There were tears in her faded eyes,
and tear stains on her withered old cheeks,
as with trembling hands she plated and
unplaited the hem of her embroidered
apron.
She dared not go into Francesca's room,
for the child she had rocked in her bosom
turned from her with signs and means
go away, Nunziatina; leave me in
peace, always in peace"
She dared not 90 down stairs where the
old master was closeted with the Signor
Dottore, for the professore was not like
himself this morning He was disturbed
and bewidered and was impatient of An
nunZiata's lamentations. Why had the
malign Englishman ever come to trouble
this peaceful home on the Lieva? Those
cold English, cruel and icy as their chill,
foggy land All had been going smoothly
for the dear Signor Antonio until the male
detto di Inglese turned the head of our
little Francesca
'Aime. aime,n Annunziata moaned and
wept, and plated her apron. Her heart
was very full, for she loved the Signor
Antonio like a son. Then she saw the
Signor Professore coming up the stairs with
the SignOr Dottore and she curtsied and
wiped her eyes.
Well, Annunzata, how are we getting
on ?' inquired the dottore eheerily.
"Ah, Signor Dottore, il is sad day for
this house," sighed the nurse.
No, no, Annunziata, nay friend. A
trifle a tride You are ali making too
much of q girlish caprice"
Annunziata softly opened the door and
peeped into Francesca's room. She shook
her head sadly and then threw the door
open, saying, Enter, sgnori."
The room was almost dark A heavy
red damask curtain was drawn across the
principal window, and Francesca lay on a
couch in Swallowed corner, with her head
buried in the red velvet cushions The
thick masses of her black hair stood out in
relief against the rich crimson of the pill
lows. Her face was hidden. She never
stirred as her father and the doctor went
into the room.
The poor old professore was dazed and
puzzled. He knew more of marine biology
than of women. A great disturbance was
wrought in him by this distracting be-
haVior on the part of his little 'Cesca. He
had not the smallest idea what to do.
Francescas strange affection for his dis
guished English student amazed him.
The milordo was an imprisoned pupil.
Science was his mistress. He had never
another thought. Blind professore!
The professore crossed the room with
hurried, uncertain step, and put mis- hand
timdly on Francesoa's shoulder.
"Cesca, my little Que, look up. Here is
the Signor Dottore."
francesca lifted her head There was a
faint, dusky glow on her olive cheeks. Her
great dark eyes were dry, but deep and lu-
minous with emotion. She clasped her
fathers hand between her two little hot
palms.
"Babbo, il milo babbo!n she cried. "Let
me die. I care no more to live. l wish to
sleep in the grave. oh, yes, to sleep for
ever, forever with my mother"
The professore turned pale to the roots of
his white hair But the dottore, with an
important manner, took Francescas hand
in his and felt for the pulse at her wrist.
Francesca drew her hand away and buried
it under the cushions.
Go away, Signor Dotorre; go, go, I do
not want you l wish to die and 90 to my
mother How miserable l am. What tor
ment
The professore looked anxiously at the
dottore The Signor Dottore who felt the
unruffled calm of profound wisdom,
screwed up his eyes and twinkled saga
ciously at the troubled professore, as much
as to say He, he learned professore, l
know thing or two beyond you. With
all your deep researches, YOU are now CROP
ing in thick darkness. Stand aside, good
professore, and admire the wealth of my
knowledge of human nature. The heart
of the woman is an open book to me-" So,
r,.bavlt- at,l ippOsa al tho Jotfora
drew a chair near Francesca's couch.
$50, so, Francesca, what is the matter
now? What poor fellow have you slain
with your dark eyes? All, little lady,
hear terrible stories of your cruelty" and
the foolish old dottore struggled to get hold
of Francesca's wrist.
"Babbo." pleaded Francesca, with pit
eous SILVER OF disgust as she hid herself
deeper in the pillows. The professore
moved uneasily.
Come come, Francesca" pleaded the
dottore give your devoted admirer that
little wrist. The youth of Siapente will
mob old Caporali If he doesn't quickly
cure the beautiful Francesca. A touch of
fever. professore, nothing, nothing. A
composing draught, and our Francesca will
be as dangerous as ever"
Francesca turned round and raised her.
self in a sitting position. go away,
Signor Dottore | hate you. Go away
babbon she said. II implore you to let me
alone. Babbo, dear babbo, please go away
Leave me in peace, in peace
The miserable professore trembled, and
something of the immense suffering in the
girls ewes penetrated the dense covering
that shrouded Dottore Caporalis soul.
Francesca buried herself once more in the
cushions The two old men looked help
Ixf
away.
Presently Annunziata came in and looked
wistfully at Francesca.
The Signor Antonio bids me ask the
signorina if she will have the flowers on
the terrace the same as last year"
Il do not care, Nunziata; have told you
1 do not care for anything"
All, my little one, do not say that-you
will break old Nunziata's heart. Think of
Signor Antonio, too"
s'Nunziata, cried Francesca, turning her
flaming eyes suddenly on the old nurse,
90 away this minute, and leave me in
peace Anuunziata sighed and went sor-
rowfully away; but in very short time
she returned again.
The Signor Antonio goes tomorrow to
the market at V. He bids me inquire
If he can do anything for the signorinan
That wearisome, laundering Antonio
again Always questions when she wished
to be quiet and watch the sun die over the
hill
Nothing, nothing. Nunziata. Why does
the Signor Antonio plague me like this?
aul far too unhappy to want ribbons or lace.
He should know thai"
Pardon, signorina. Last year when the
Siguor Antonio started hurriedly with
out asking your will. you were very
angry and scolded him WELL Fran
cesca burst into tears. They were all
turning against her now. Even old Nun
ziata reproved her. They were very hard
and she was so lonely, oh, so very lonely.
Babbo was graver than ever, and stared at
her as if she was some strange beast, and
the Signor Dottore was odious with his
silly Jokes. There was no one to whom
she could tell her thoughts Oh, what tor
ment, to have no one to praise you, and
love and pet youl Quale tormeutol
"Che che cried Annunziata. My
angel, don't cry. Run down and see what
the Sienor Antonio has done in the gar
den" Bat francesca felt q strong sense OF